We put up the Tree two weeks ago. It's an old tree that H inherited from a friend and rather than buy a fresh, cut tree or a potted one, we are using it to save $. We're on a very limited budget. Still, somehow we managed to pick up a few lovely additional ornaments and plan to do so every year. A local antique shop is a favourite of ours as it stocks characterful trinkets.
I just put the phone down. I was talking to a close friend, in Hong Kong, who lost her Dad recently. A week ago, there was news about a family member that came as a shock. Christmas this year will not be the unalloyed joyousness of last year. It will require much strength, for my family and friends, for H and I. But like the Tree, we're still standing. And we plan to stick around.
The Tree glows in the dark, a bulwark against winter's cold and greyness, reminding us how precious life is. Maybe it's not a very Christian symbol of Christmas. But I think: A tree that is metaphorically renewed every year, that bursts with light and joy and beauty -- how can it not capture the essence of the season?
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